


Christmas With an Archangel

by professionalmomfriend (mothmanwashere)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 09:19:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1079255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothmanwashere/pseuds/professionalmomfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean receive an unexpected visitor at the Bunker early Christmas morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas With an Archangel

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everyone!  
> Just a little thing inspired by something on Tumblr  
> Started it months ago, finally finished  
> I hope you enjoy!

Sam and Dean edged into the main room of the Bunker, salt-round loaded shotguns at the ready. At a silent signal, they rounded the corner and aimed their guns directly at the red-clothed figure crawling out of the unlit fireplace. “Hands in the air, you sonuvabitch,” Dean growled. The figure stopped, frozen for a moment, before putting down the red, velvet sack he carried and slowly turning around, holding his hands in the air.

“Ho ho hooooooly holly balls, Dean,” the intruder said in a deep voice. “Is that any way to treat Santa Claus? And to think I vouched for you to be on the good list this year.”

Sam glanced quickly at Dean and mouthed “Santa?” Dean shook his head, dismissing it immediately.

“Santa isn't real,” Dean grunted. “So you've got three seconds to explain what in the hell you're doing here or we'll pump your chest full of salt.”

Santa chuckled lowly. “I came to bring presents, of course!” When Sam and Dean remained unwaivering, Santa reached for his bag. 

“Hey!” Dean shouted. “Not so fast, fatty.”

Santa tilted his head and shot Dean a disapproving look. Santa rolled his head back and sighed. “You boys can't take the simple answer, can you? Fine.” Santa tossed the bag at Sam and then snapped his gloved fingers together. All at once the white beard and extra chub disappeared and all that was left was a familiar face they hadn't seen in years. Dean and Sam stared in shock.

“Gabriel?” Sam broke the stunned silence with his name. “But you're... you're dead.”

“Ha!” Gabriel smirked at the brunet clutching the velvet sack to his chest. “Now is that any way to greet an old ally?”

“You took on the Devil,” Dean grunted, pulling the gun away from the angel's throat, but keeping it at the ready. “You lost. You left us that damned porno that said you were dead. Forgive us for believing your trickster ass for once.”

Gabriel turned his condescending sneer on Dean. “Can't. Aaaaand won't. Come on, guys! I brought you presents! It's Christmas! I'd like to spend it around nobody who wants to bring my half-brother into it for once.”

“You mean... Jesus?” Sam asked. He had pulled open the sack and was rummaging through the perfectly-wrapped gifts inside. They were all addressed to Sam, Dean, Kevin, and Cas.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Astounding observation, Sasquatch,” he said drily. “And yeah, can we not? Christmas got way more fun once the pagans got a hold of it.”

“How'd you find us?”

“Ahh,”Gabriel said, holding up a finger. “See, I didn't mean to find you. Or at least, I wasn't expecting to. In fact, you two were the last two people I expected to run into, what with you guys trying to stay under angel-radar. But I was passing through, and then I saw Sam in town with your new pet prophet, followed them back here and figured, what the hey? Why not spread a little pagan Christmas cheer. Which you two are not very good at, by the looks of things,” the angel added, glancing around at the undecorated bunker.

“We have a Christmas tree,” Dean said with a frown, dropping his shotgun to his side. Gabriel raised his eyebrows at the tiny potted cactus sporting a single red bulb ornament.

“Please do not tell me you consider that a Christmas tree,” Gabriel said. 

Dean shot him a challenging look, and the shorter man sighed. He snapped his fingers together and an eight foot, fully decorated fir tree in the corner, complete with lights and on top... Sam squinted at the scantily clad, six-winged figure at the top of the tree. “Is that supposed to be you?”

Gabriel gave Sam a look. “I assume, with the amount of reading you've done in your life as a hairless sasquatch, battling angels and demons and the effing devil, that you have read at least part of the Bible. You know who I am, right?”

“You're Gabriel,” Dean scowled. “Holy high roller. You're like fourth in command, aren't you?”

“If only,” Gabriel lamented. He snapped his fingers and the angel on top of the Christmas tree changed to an eerily familiar dark-haired likeness... complete with a trenchcoat. “Like that one better, Dean-o? I figured. He didn't have much to do with the holiday, but hey whatever floats Dean's totally-completely-heterosexual boat. Sit down, boys, and lemme explain to you a thing. With another snap of his fingers, Gabriel had relocated three arm chairs from somewhere in the bunker to directly behind the three men. Gabriel sank down into his without a word.

“Thought you didn't want to talk about Jesus,” Sam pointed out as he settled into his own seat.

“Shut up, this is my story not his,” Gabriel snapped. “Now, where to start, where to start?”

“Once upon a midnight clear?” Dean offered, kicking his feet up. He'd decided it was way too early in the morning to deal with any more shit, and besides... Gabriel had snapped a few beers in along with the armchairs, so why not take the peace offering and let the little dickwad talk?

“No,” Gabriel said. “Trust me, when the little dogooder was born it was not midnight, and it was not clear. But we'll get there. This starts about... eh... we'll say nine or so months previous.”

Dean scoffed, but Gabriel simply ignored him and continued. “I got a call from my Dad – yeah, this was back when he still ran the joint upstairs. Anyway, Dad tells me I'm supposed to bring 'tidings',” Gabriel said, using quotey fingers in the air around his head. “Something I did a lot of back in the day, but when he said 'tidings' all I heard was that I had to go down to Earth and tell some random chick that my dad knocked her up.”

Sam's jaw floundered open slightly, unsure if he was amused by Gabriel's rendition of the story or unsettled. All he could picture was the classic children's book images of the virgin Mary, dressed all in blue. And Gabriel, in all of his slightly-greasy charm and enormous swagger waltzing in, a lollipop in his mouth, crassly informing Mary that she was pregnant.

“I had a script I had to follow,” Gabriel said, as if reading Sam's mind and dispelling that image. “I improvised a little... I don't think the prophets back in the day wrote that down though. Anyway... she took it pretty well considering. Then I had to tell her fiance, and lemme tell you, folks back in the day were not as laidback as I am about this whole 'promiscuity' thing.”

Dean let out a snort of laughter, nodding as if in agreement. Gabriel smirked in the elder Winchester's direction. “Then I got a few months off while everyone else arranged stuff. Even back then, everyone knew I was best at being a pretty face and a spokesperson. The last time they left me in charge of planning something, the platypus was invented.”

Dean choked on his beer and Sam laughed outright, both reactions pulling a look of self-satisfaction from Gabriel. Though he would never admit it, he really liked the Winchesters. Even though they tried to kill him practically every time they met – and he knew they never really could, so it was okay – they were all right. Dean had a good sense of humor and Sammy was just outright adorable. That's why he had wanted to spend Christmas with them. That's why he liked making them laugh. That's why Gabriel had trailed them for the last four years at a distance. Because he understood what his brother Castiel liked about the Winchesters. And hey, they'd befriended one angel before...

“Anyway, my big role came in night of. It was pouring buckets in Bethlehem, but Hezekiah and Ezekiel were employed as angelic umbrellas and held off the downpour long enough for my big show.” Gabriel leaped from his seat and used wide-sweeping gestures to illustrate the grandness of his story. “Scene: down-pouring rain. Suddenly, it stops. This awesome, glowing, incredibly handsome being appears in the sky. And they were terrified, because I was fabulous and fabulousness was pretty rare back in the day. Picture High School Musical set in ancient Israel and you've got it. Except I wasn't lipsyncing.” Gabriel stood on his chair, foot propped up on the back of it, arms spread wide. “And I said 'Yo bitches, there's a kid in town who's supposed to be awesome. He's gonna die and stuff, so you should find him before that happens. Personally, I think he's kind of a douche, but he's gonna do some stuff for you dickish peons down here so you should thank him.' and then my backup dancers arrived and we did our number and split.” Gabriel dropped himself into his chair, legs twisted beneath him in a pretzel shape. “They listened, of course. They thought he was probably a lot cooler than I let on, but hey I made a pretty fucking great impression on them, so that's all that matters.” Gabriel tucked his hands behind his head and crossed his ankles. “I was among heaven's best and brightest.”

“And douchiest,” Dean added.

“Hey, I'm definitely not the biggest dick in the Bible, okay?” Gabriel defended himself with a displeased expression. “There are at least three far worse winged-wonders than I named in there, and that's being generous.”

“So is that it?” Sam asked, eyebrows arching in Gabriel's direction. “That's your Christmas story?”

“Well yeah,” Gabriel said. “I left not long after that. The arrival of the J-baby meant the beginning of the wait was at hand. Like I wanted to be sucked into Michael's army. Nooooo thanks. I mean, there is a reason I was a messenger and not one of the cavalry. Aside from the platypi, that is, they never let me live that one down. I'm not big on confrontation, never was, never will. I prefer to keep it light.” Gabriel frowned at the Winchesters. “You guys should know that as well as anyone.”

Sam twisted his mouth. It did make sense, when Gabriel put it that way.

“So you've spent every Christmas since rehashing your fifteen minutes of lame?” Dean asked, sounding vaguely unimpressed, which was a step up from constant irritation where the archangel was involved.

“No. I've spent every Christmas since building my cover and for all intents and purposes embodying the demi-god of Norse mythology that everyone of status around the globe knows as Loki. I haven't had time to relive past victories. I've been busy staying pagan so my family can't find me.”

“So what about this Christmas?” Sam asked. Gabriel swung his head around to look at the younger Winchester and gave him a look that said it should have been obvious.

“Hello? I'm here, aren't I?”

“Why?”

“I got bored!” Gabriel exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “I been dead for four years, so I haven't exactly been in touch with anyone I care to speak to. Hadn't seen the Winchesters in a while, but I heard they been up to all kinds of no-good. Decided, hey – if there is anyone I know who hates angels and Jesus and all that 'true meaning of Christmas' crap, it'd be you two. Even if you kicked me out or hell, tried to kill me yet again... it was worth a shot. This has already been more entertainment than I've had in the last four years.” Gabriel made a face and chugged the last of his beer.

Sam and Dean shared a glance and silently agreed they would not gank Gabriel this evening. Yet, anyway. “All right,” Dean said, settling against the back of his chair and getting comfortable. “Congratulations. You've smooth-talked your way into one, death-free day with us. Provided you don't do anything stupid.”

“Thank you for your generosity,” Gabriel said with a roll of his eyes.

“Sam? Dean?” A sleep-filled and slightly panicked voice was heard from the doorway. “What the--”

“You must be Kevin,” Gabriel smirked.

“How do you know my name?” Kevin asked, his eyes widening. “Who are you?”

“Kevin, relax,” Dean said. “This is Gabriel. He's a friendly. Sort of.”

“Gabriel... the archangel?” Kevin still looked like a frightened animal ready to dash, but he also looked curious.

“In the flesh,” Gabriel replied, sounding bored. “But tonight, I'm Santa Claus.”

With a snap of his fingers, Gabriel's red velvet sack was back in his grasp. He dug through it and pulled out a flat box with a shiny green bow, which he held out to Kevin. Kevin frowned suspiciously and edged closer, taking the box from the angel. He glanced at Sam, who nodded, prompting Kevin to open the gift. After tearing the paper off, Kevin's eyes widened. “Oh my god. Is this the new Skyrim game?”

“It does appear to say that on the case.”

Kevin let a wide grin spread across his face and he clutched the video game to his chest like a baby. “Thanks random angel dude.”

Gabriel tilted his head in acknowledgment, an amused smirk dancing across his face. “Sam, Dean? You two want in on this?”

“Presents? Hell yeah,” Dean said, rubbings his hands together. “Bring 'em on.”

Gabriel grinned impishly and tossed a box to Dean before handing one to Sam. “Open 'em up.”

Dean ripped through the shiny paper. “Casa Erotica 19.”

“Extended edition,” Gabriel grinned. Dean made an appreciative face as he studied the back of the case.

“What are--”

Gabriel grinned and leaned toward Sam. “It's a hat,” he informed the larger man.

“I can see that, Gabe,” Sam replied. “Are those... antlers sewn on it?”

“It's a moose hat!” Gabriel announced gleefully. “I looked for that one special, just for you. Put it on!!”

Sam hesitated, and glared at Dean and Kevin, before sticking the hat on his head, tugging on the long, rope-like tassels dangling from the sides. Dean turned a snicker into a cough and Gabriel beamed. “Look at that hunky moose,” he teased, causing Sam to turn a bright red and rip the hat off his head. He combed his fingers through his hair to make it lie flat and shoved the hat into the seam of the chair beside his leg. “Thanks Gabe,” he muttered politely.

“My pleasure,” Gabriel said with a smile. “Well, there's more where that came from, so you guys dig in and I'll whip up some breakfast. It'll be a snap,” Gabriel said with a wink. “Do you guys want french toast, or cinnamon rolls?”

“Why not both?” Kevin asked, tearing open a new video game controller.

Gabriel chuckled. “I like this kid,” he announced to the room. “Coolest prophet I've met since David.”

“David? As in... King David? In the old testament?” Kevin asked, actually looking up from his presents to ask his question.

Gabriel nodded. “Hell yeah. David and I were tight. I should tell you guys about the time I hooked him up with Jonathan.” Gabriel snorted. “All these Bible scholars think they were just bros.”

And so it was that Gabriel spent an entire Christmas with the Winchesters and Kevin, and Dean only tried stabbing him twice. 

(He didn't succeed.)


End file.
